Oublier
by Jena Rink
Summary: Team Gibbs never found Ziva. Four years later, she reappears, not at all the Ziva that any of them remembers, to a team that has drastically changed. This goes AU after the end of Season 6.


Oublier

Jena Rink

August 27th, 2012

I don't own NCIS. I might make up some characters. I own those. But not the series as a whole. The first chapter of this is first person. I'm not sure if I'm going to continue it that way, but I think it was necessary for a prologue, at least. Tony and the team never found Ziva in Somalia. The team changes dramatically as a result. This takes four places after the season six finale.

Let me know what you think.

What was that smell? I could smell something familiar. It was tickling my nostrils, indulging me in a wave of nostalgia that I was too groggy to place. I was laying on something hard. Concrete. And it was cold. I shivered, my nerves getting the best of me. My legs and arms were zip tied together, and I felt like I'd been hit with a punching back far too many times. I could certainly smell blood. And for some reason I was groggy. My mouth was duck taped neatly, and I had no way of undoing it.

I used to pride myself on being able to ascertain my surroundings quickly then most. It had always served my well in the field. But this smell, the feeling of the room I was in. It was so familiar. My mind unfogged further, but I felt like my body was being dragged down by weights. I looked to the right and realized where I was, cursing internally. He would have dumped me here. Just to prove a point. I tried to wiggle my way into a sitting position, and cried out. They had done a good job making it look like I had no choice in being here. And truthfully, I didn't. I could barely move. Had he just counted on the fact that he would no doubt come down his stairs and see me at some point.

I could not believe he had actually done it. Of course this was my fault. I shouldn't have kept it so long to myself. And now there was a chance I would never. No. I couldn't get overwhelmed by it. If I let myself be ruled by my emotions…but they kept creeping up until I was fighting the urge to cry. It was all I could feel. Maybe I could get to my feet? I had to get out of here. There was no way I could face what I had done to everyone. What my absence had caused. I managed to climb to my feet with a wince, and froze when I saw lights shining above the top of the windows. Car lights.

It was pitch black in the basement, and I fought to keep my balance as I maneuvered myself shakily against the wall towards the back of the stairs. Maybe if I could just hide until he went to sleep? If he still left his door unlocked, then no one would realize that I was here in the first place, and I could find a pocket knife and just. ..

"Barrett. Call McGee. Someone's broken into my house," I heard his gruff voice upstairs, and froze, a thousand memories hitting me all at once, and last being him leaving me. Leaving me on that tarmac, leaving me to what had eventually happened. And to what had led me here. How had I gotten here? I was so lost in the thoughts of trying to remember anything, but all I remembered was the yelling, the needle, the feeling of reality slipping away as I'd lost consciousness. And then I tripped as I was hopping, falling forwards and hitting my head on the edge of his workbench, tears stinging my eyes.

"Whose down there?" his voice was gruff. I heard it as I laid, partially under the table, cursing my own stupidity. The lights clicked on, and I winced, closing my eyes tightly and hoping this was just some sort of warped dream. That I'd wake up anywhere else, that I'd actually died like I was supposed to on the Damocles. And then I felt his hand gently turning me over. He was shocked. As shocked as I had ever seen him. I was shaking. I didn't know if it was the drugs, or the cold, or hitting my head, but I couldn't seem to stop. My teeth were chattering beneath the ducktape, and I could feel blood rushing down the front of my head. I'd cut myself badly.

I was sure I looked a mess. My eyes met his, and I was sure that I probably looked wild and frightened. I wanted to bolt but I couldn't. Curse him for putting me in this situation. But all that Gibbs did was stare at me, silently. His hand came up finger the edge of the ducktape and I tried to shrink back, wincing slightly. He pulled it off quickly, and it stung. I took a deep breath of air to my lungs, and stared up at him silently.

"Boss?" it was McGee, standing at the top of the stairs.

"I need you to call Ducky," his voice sounded strained," Tell him to bring some medical supplies," he added, and Mcgee frowned.

"But Boss,"

"Just do it, McGee," he said with finality, his eyes coming back to rest on me. Everything was growing hazy again, and I felt a large urge to sleep. That would be so much easier then all of this. And I was angry at him. It was so easy to blame him for all of this. I glared up at him, even as my vision blurred slightly. He reached down to help me sit up, and I shrunk back again.

"Do not. Touch me," I whispered softly, my voice thick but harsher than I realized it could be.

"You're hurt. Ducky-"

"I did not _ask _to come back here!" I said suddenly, my voice louder, again, then I realized it could be after hours with no food or water. Possibly days, "I do not want to be around any of you!" I snarled, scooting myself further away from Gibbs. I didn't notice the female at the top of the stairs, staring down at us.

"Gibbs, Ducky is going to be here in thirty minutes," My head shot up to stare at her for a moment, and then back at Gibbs. I was sure I looked like a crazy person. But I could tell by her expression that she had no idea in hell who I was.

"Oh I see. We don't speak of the dead, do we?" I asked Gibbs quietly, and he closed his eyes tightly for a moment.

"Ziver-" he started, and I shook my head.

"Don't you dare call me that," I said softly, the girl staring on in interest.

"I do not want to talk to you. Get McGee,"

"You are not a child. You cannot just wish this away! " Gibbs said.

"OH, Special Agent Gibbs. I am well aware of how much I cannot just wish away," I spat. McGee must have been outside, because he hadn't come to the door.

"Ziva-" he said gently, reaching for my wrists. I shook my head.

"You left me there!"I screamed at him, unable to stop the tears from filling my eyes and spilling down my cheeks, "How could you do that after what I did to-" my eyes strayed to the stain on the floor.

"We all made choices," he reminded me, his tone sharp. The small blonde looked alarmed by the whole situation.

"Oh yes. I made mine, and you made yours. And look where we are now," I hated him.

"At least let me-"

"Get away from me!" I screamed at him.

"Gibbs. Just let me," Ej said softly, staring at me in alarm.

"She does anything, you yell," he told her, and I rolled my eyes, fighting my emotions as she came down the stairs.

"I'm EJ," she said quietly, pulling a small army knife out of her pocket.

"Hello," I managed curtly, stretching my legs awkwardly as she undid the zip ties. Our eyes met as she reached for my wrists, and her eyes widened softly.

"I've seen your picture in Abby's lab," she realized.

"I imagine that I do not look quite the same," I said, and realized she was staring at my wrists, the rope scars obvious.

"You're Ziva…they wouldn't talk about you,"

"Yes, it is easier if the past stays dead and buried," I breathed softly, trying to keep my eyes open.

"What happened to you?" she asked softly, and I closed my eyes for a moment.

"I do not know how I got here," that was a lie. Such a lie that it tasted bitter in my mouth. A lie that would never fly with Gibbs.

"We should get you cleaned up,"

"As soon as this is reported, they are going to want to swab me and take my clothes and take photographs…"

"We didn't call dispatch." EJ told me, and I sighed, attempting to get to my feet wobbly.

"Well perhaps it is best. I am not wanted here," I told her, and she stared at me incredulously.

"Not, wanted? I've been trying to fill your shoes for four years," she told me, steadying me as we made our way towards the stairs.

"You think you can make it up?" she asked me, and I nodded, gritting my teeth as she stood behind me, ready to catch me if I fell.

Gibbs was nowhere in sight when I got to the top of the stairs, but McGee was, talking into his cellphone.

"Abs, he's fine. He just looked like he saw a…."his eyes caught mine, "I'm going to have to call you back," he flipped his phone shut, and stared at me silently.

"Do you need help to the couch? I'm gonna go grab some towels. McGee, do you-"

"Hall closet," I whispered, pointing her in the right direction.

"Oh," she nodded, and left us alone.

"Your head,"

"I fell. I was ziplined," he made a face.

"Ziptied," he corrected me, staring at my wrists.

"It is not your job to correct my English. That was always Tony's job," I said hollowly, leaning against the doorframe.

Tony. Our last interaction had been tense, emotional. Awful. And he wasn't here. No one was here to save me from reality. The taste of bile rose in my throat, and I barely made it to the kitchen sink before I started retching, holding myself up weakly over the sink. I felt someone behind me, and tensed.

"God Ziva. We thought you were dead," McGee whispered, rubbing circles on my back and holding my hair. I finished finally, my dry heaving giving way to sobbing. Nothing could ever be the same here. Whoever said that you could go home again was a liar.

I was crying so hard that I barely realized that I was no longer standing, McGee cradling me in his arms and taking me to the couch, smoothing my hair back and trying to calm me down. Why had he left me here? He was such an asshole.

"McGee! You weren't answering!" Ej had cleaned my face by the time that Abby had burst in the door, combat boots and all,"I thought something had happened, and I-Oh my GOD," she whispered. I could see her out of the corner of my eye, and didn't turn my head. I was still leant against McGee, covered in all the blankets EJ had been able to find.

"Abs, maybe you should go and find Gibbs," I could feel her staring at me as Tim broke the awkward silence.

"Where did Gibbs go?" she asked softly, and he shrugged.

"What did you do?" I didn't realize that her voice was directed at me until she walked closer, and my eyes finally met hers. She seemed scared by what she found.

"Back from the dead for less then an hour and already screwing more things up?" she said finally, and I winced. She couldn't see what I looked like.

"Abby," Ej started, and she put a finger up.

"Don't you think you've done enough? You ruined him, Ziva. You ruined Tony's life!" she yelled, tears in her eyes.

Of that I was well aware.

"ABBY! STOP!" EJ yelled, her eyes on me. She clearly noticed that I was fading quickly.

I felt like I was having a panic attack. I'd started shaking again and I couldn't breathe. There was no way out of this situation. My vision blurred and I heard yelling, but the edges of what I could see were turning black, and the blackness was so comforting. I remembered the blackness I lived in that allowed me to survive.

And as I closed my eyes, the last thing I saw was Gibb's face, staring over me worriedly.

And then there was nothing. Blissful nothing. Blackness was better, because I couldn't hear Abby crying, and I could not see Gibbs face, and just for one moment I could maybe start to forget what had happened. How I had ended up here. Who had sent me here in the first place…who had found me in the first place.

Because my journey back to NCIS hadn't just started tonight.

_So Oublier means 'forget' in French. I have a bit more written of this and a pretty good idea of where I want it to go, but I'm extreeeemly busy. Please let me know what y'all think about it. _


End file.
